


Fought so long

by youngnreckless



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Eating Disorders, M/M, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:04:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngnreckless/pseuds/youngnreckless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is a self conscious seventeen year old who meets Louis Tomlinson, an awfully honest alcoholic who loves ruining his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelicrainbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicrainbow/gifts).



> Hi reader,  
> I'm going to try my best to make this work not overly long, but it'll still be multiple chapters.  
> Thanks for reading this, comment what you think please!  
> The characters in this story have altered personalities. I’m not saying that any of them are like this in real life. There is also use of alcohol and mentions of eating disorders. The ‘rehab’ mentioned in this isn't what actual rehab is like, this would be more like a care group.
> 
>  
> 
> -youngnreckless x
> 
> Note to Lou:  
> You're my sunshine and you are what motivates me to smile and keep being happy. I love you forever and have fun laughing at my writing. You're goddamn perfect, and just thank you. You're more then my best friend, or a soul mate. You're my sister and i love love love you. x (angelicrainbow: read her bloody writing!!)

**Track: Quiet Minds by Feki, Emily.**

_(London pub, 27h of January)_

January in London is always cold. It’s colder when your bones are poking harshly through your skin and the last time your stomach had been full was five weeks ago. Iron levels low, and eye bags so evident, Harry Styles lugged himself into the local pub. The air reeked of alcohol, fried food and all the toxic desires he didn't let himself touch. Surely no one would turn up, he almost hoped they wouldn't turn up, just so he could crawl back home with another excuse to cry and not leave his flat for a few days. That’s just how he got used to living, not expecting and not hurting after that.

_(The Tomlinson household, 27th of January)_

The cold liquor that is flowing freely down his throat feels so natural now. Every night for weeks, months or maybe years, he can't remember, the bottle has been in his hand. Like a guardian, like security to him. Louis Tomlinson took another long gulp of the light amber liquid that stung as it passed his throat. It wasn’t like he wanted to be like this, but what choice did he really have? Everything was just so fucked up. He’d forgotten about the glass shards that had scratched his wrist, until a trickle of red reminded him to do something about it. He couldn’t though, not after- no, he could suffer a little more.

 

~~~

_(Seven months later)_

“Thanks Gem.” Harry said as his sister passed the black duffle bag to him.

“Harry, this is going to be really good for you. Thank you for trying this out.” Gemma grinned.

“You’re doing really well already.” He had been doing better, he looked a lot less malnourished and Harry would agree to go out with friends a lot more regularly. The doctor however, recommended that Harry should still go to the care group.

“I’ll see you on Saturday.” she said before pulling him in for another firm hug.

“Yeah sis, I’ll see you then.”

 

He hadn’t had the urge to throw up in almost six weeks, but some reason just the sight of this place made him feel nauseous. Rehab. He didn’t like that word, neither did Gemma so they called it the ‘help place’ instead. It was quite intimidating, with it’s chipped paint around the few visible windows. The few steps that led into the dim doorway of the reception were covered with the last golden remains of Autumn.

“Hello, good morning.” a lady who looked like she was in her mid thirties looked up from her computer screen.

“Hi, I’m Harry. I am here for like the care group.” he said hesitantly. Would this really be good for him? He didn’t know anymore.

“Oh hello Harry, my name is Caroline. Could I have your forms so I can check up your information online?” Harry handed the papers over to Caroline who took them with a gracious smile. Ten clicks later, the short haired receptionist got up from her seat.

“Okay, so this can be particularly nerve racking to come here. I just want to remind you that everyone is here to help you. We have doctors and great people to listen to you and give you advice.” Harry nodded along to Caroline’s words, he didn't particularly like having people around but he would just have to deal with this.

“So right now I’ll take you to Doctor Cora, and feel free to talk to her about anything at all. After that you can just go to your room, go to the cafeteria to eat um, or head over to the library. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.” she added quickly.

“Thanks.” Harry said sheepishly.

 

~~~

“Good morning Harry.” Doctor Cora tugged at the leather arm chair and gestured for Harry to sit down.

“Morning doctor.” he replied.

“How are you feeling about being here?” she said scribbling into her log book.

“Good. Actually, I’m nervous I think. Just having to meet new people. It’s hard, I’m not used to- yeah that’s all. I’m good.”

“Right, can I ask you why you are nervous about meeting new people?”

“I’m not really sure. Probably because I’m just ashamed of myself, I don't want people to be able to read me. It’s scary. ” Harry wanted to shove those words right back into his mouth.

“I understand that Harry, it really is overwhelming to be pushed somewhere and told you need help and to make friends. Okay, well I know you’ve been struggling a lot with your body image for quite some time now. Many people here are going through the same thing. We’re going to help you be healthy and get well, but you need to agree to try?”

“Yeah I will.” he replied, because a little bit of him did want to get better.

“Okay, if you ever feel uneasy, come here, alright?”

“Thanks Doctor Cora.” Harry smiled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Harry.”

 

~~~

It was almost late afternoon when Harry finally decided to try the cafeteria. Taking a deep sigh, he pushed the door open and immediately expected the pungent stench of carbohydrates, but was instead met with the acidic smell of lemon cleaning products. The cafeteria was a lot less shabby then the room he had been spending his last six hours in. It had long, welcoming windows that allowed plenty of sunlight to flood the room. The walls were painted a light cream and the tables were a complimenting clean oatmeal colour. Only a few boys were congregated towards the left side of the hall, whose eyes he didn't see were trained on him.

Harry approached the front where a boy with a stripy navy blue and white apron beckoned to him.

“Hi, sorry what’s your name?” the brunette paused realising the curly haired one was confused.

“Oh, I’m Liam. I work here at the cafeteria and I need to have your name so I can grab your meal.”

“My name is Harry. Harry Styles.” Liam gave a quick thumbs up, before turning on his heels and ambling behind the counter where he collected a tray and handed it to Harry.

“Here is your meal, you can leave it on the side bench over there when you are done. Is everything alright?” Liam inquired.

Harry quickly adjusted his tight frown into a slight grin, and reminded himself not to examine his food. “Yeah everything is alright, thanks.”

 

A very green salad tossed with a few grape tomatoes here and there and even a couple chunks of chicken. It was similar to something that Gemma would make him, so it shouldn't be too hard, right? Shuffling to the closest table, Harry placed his tray and glass of water down. He pierced the chicken with his fork and crushed it till all the dressing was drained from it. It was actually a lot harder to put the mouth in his own mouth without Gemma or his mum next to him. He hadn't eaten by himself for ages, but he wanted to do it for the sake of them. Harry cringed when the first bit of chicken entered his mouth. He pushed away the thought to spit it right back out and instead poked for a leaf of spinach. Grabbing his glass of water, he gulped the contents down until it reached past his throat.

 

When Harry looked up from his plate, his eyebrows still furrowed, two boys were standing beside him. “Hey Curly, can we sit down?” a skinny boy with jet-black hair, and espresso coloured eyes said.

“Yeah sure.” Harry said, wondering if that was the only reply he could have said.

The raven haired boy and a smaller boy with a pale denim jacket sat across from him.

“We haven't seen you around before, are you new here?”

“I- yeah. I’m new.” Harry felt a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks.

“Sorry I didn't introduce myself. I’m Zayn and this is Louis.” Zayn motioned to Louis who rolled his eyes ignorantly and shoved his hands into pockets.

“Can I ask you something Harry?” Louis’ blue eyes focused onto Harry’s, and Harry prayed in that moment that Louis wasn’t judging him.

Harry gulped a hesitant yes.

“Let me guess why you’re here. You are from a great family who loves you even when you’ve been a fucking disgrace to them,”

“Stop it Louis.” Zayn warned.

“You seem like someone who is anorexic or bulimic, some fake shit like that. And now you’re a binge eater or something. Right?” Louis smirked to himself when Harry didn't move, stunned.

 

Harry can’t remember the rest of the day too well. It was just as blurry as all the days in the previous Winter and Autumn had been. He does remember wiping a wild tear from his cheek and speeding out of the cafeteria whilst Louis laughed at him. He does remember the judgmental eyes that saw him fling himself into the bathroom stall. The urge took over him, the first time in five months. He was too scared to message Gemma and instead let his thoughts taunt him to sleep. The nightmarish thoughts that had been tormenting him for years lulled him, he was used to this.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds a tad bit of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2... I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> -youngnreckless x

**Track: Personal by Tori Kelly**

When Harry woke up, he rubbed the sleep- well actually the tear stains from his eyes. An awful headache prodded all the way to the back of his skull, he groaned when he saw it was just past five in the morning. The next hour, Harry tossed around depressingly in his bed and pushed all the thoughts of the feathery haired boy out of his mind. In the end Harry gave into them and let them seep into him. He suspected that the weather would be cooler, due to the murky hue of the sky that peeked through the almond tinted shutters. Even if it wasn’t, he would feel cold anyways, so he pulled a smoky coloured hoodie over his slightly frizzy head of curls.

 

The hallway to Doctor Cora’s office was far too spacious. Vibrant and hopeful, letting the lost boy’s misery ooze all over the polished marble flooring. After Harry’s knuckle had carefully tapped on the door that belonged to his doctor, he waited anxiously for something to happen. He had expected the lady with the dead black hair to swing open the door and welcome him inside, instead he found a grumbling Liam who rubbed his eyes and yawned at the sight of Harry.

“I’m so sorry,” Liam froze and beckoned for Harry to enter.

“Sorry, Cora- Doctor Cora, she’s late this morning. She’ll be here in five minutes or so.”

“Right, okay.” Harry muttered awkwardly.

“I’m just here because Cora, she’s my aunt and she told me she might have an client quite early but she couldn't remember, so she told me to wait here till she arrived.”

“Oh right, that makes a lot more sense.” Harry said.

“Yep,” Liam said, popping the ‘p’ unnecessarily. “By the way, I wanted to ask if you were okay. Yesterday, I’m not entirely sure what happened and I really don't want to invade your privacy, but is everything okay with Zayn and Louis?”

Harry felt like his insides collided when he heard the name Louis.

“I’m fine thanks, just a couple of remarks from Louis.” He felt the lie not want to escape from between his teeth, he let it do so.

“Louis can be quite rude at first and has a quick temper, but he is like that to everyone. He’ll get better, I promise.”

Like that to everyone, how many people had stumbled off mortified and sobbed for hours upon hours?

 

It was a quarter of an hour later when Doctor Cora finally decided to strut in with an ecstatic expression. “Harry, many, many apologies. You haven't been here for too long now have you?” Doctor Cora searched for a smile on Harry’s face before continuing.

“You seem like you haven't been getting a lot of sleep, have you been settling in well?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t lie to me Harry, to make this work you have to be honest so I can help you.” The doctor pulled a file from her cabinet and began scribbling.

“No, I don’t know how I feel.”

“Try and explain your emotions to me then.” Doctor Cora suggested.

Where would he even begin?

“I hate this place.” he blurted. “I got sent here from some random bloke who said I needed help. I just want to be with my family. I want to be home, not here away from where I want to be.” His Adam’s apple bobbed for another statement, but instead came a forceful swallow.

“Harry, it’s normal to feel that way. You’re not alone in this, don't ever feel that way. We are going to let you go back home once we feel that you are able to deal without professional help. Your sister called in last night and said that she would like to see you on Saturday. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“How are you finding making friends?” A benevolent smile was beamed, and Harry tried to return it.

Do _not_ break down, do _not_ cry.

He considered saying an ever so enthusiastic ‘fantastic’ but went with “I haven’t really had the opportunity to make any yet.”

“I know you’re going to hate me for this, but I’m going to suggest that you visit the care group this morning before lunch. It’s in the spare room next to the cafeteria. There won’t be too many people their but it'll be nice for you to get out of your shell.”

 

 

~~~

The first thing Harry notices when he goes in is a blonde haired lad sprawled out like a starfish on the carpet and guffawing shockingly. The next thing he sights are two girls who are laughing with or at the blonde guy (he can’t tell) and wave as soon as they see him. They are sitting under a very, very, very cheesy poster that advertises smiling and its six benefits.The whole room seems to glow when a man with bright red hair entered the room and announced a polite “Namaste”. Sorry was Harry in yoga class? He groaned internally, this would actually be the worst two hours of his existence.

 

The next thing he knows, they are standing in a fucking circle, holding hands. Yes, holding hands. The clammy hand of the loud, apparently Irish dude was glued onto his right. It was a dreadful five minutes later when the red haired guy had asked for everyone to sit.

“We are going to go around the circle and I want everyone to introduce themselves and why you are here. Remember the problems that you are here for aren't something you should be ashamed of. We are all here to support one another and make friends.” A few okays and hesitant nods were shared around the circle.

“I’ll begin, my name is Wilson and I’m here to help all of you meet a bunch of people that will help you out when you need it. I used to be abused by my dad, but I’m happy to say that my relationship with him is fine now.” Wilson’s smile broadened.

The Irish boy was next. “Hello everyone. I think most people here already know who I am. My name is Niall Horan, but you can call me Neil or Ni, I don’t mind.” The two girls burst into a voracious fit of giggles with some confused looks on others faces.

“And the reason you’re here?” Wilson asked grinning, obviously.

“I used to have be suicidal and had an eating disorder.”

 Shit, shit and more _shit_ , Harry’s turn.

“Hi, um my name is Harry. I’m at this group because I have body image issues and anxiety and that’s about it, I think.”

“Welcome to the group Harry, we have one question we always like to ask our newcomers, what is your favourite place to be?” Wilson inquired.

Harry was so grateful that it hadn't been a favourite food or restaurant question, that topic made him just so incredibly uncomfortable.

“Home.” he answered honestly. “Definitely, home for me.”

The two bubbly girls names were Ruth and Cassidy, they had explained to the group that had become best friends in the group and were keen to be here.

“Thank you everyone for being brave enough to share what your problems are. Now I want all of you to pair up with a buddy and try to have a five minute conversation with them. It might be very awkward at first, but this will help your socialising skills. Get to it guys.”

 

The first set of partners were Ruth and Cassidy who eyed each other and tumbled onto the ground laughing, naturally.

“Hi, Harry. Right?” Niall chirped pointing at the curly haired one.

“Hi Niall.” “Wait, lad is that a 1975 tattoo?” he said gesturing to the inky numerals on Harry’s collarbone. “Yeah, it is.”

“No way, do you like the band?” it was the excited ring in Niall’s voice that helped Harry decide that it was a genuine question, not an insult.

“Yeah I do actually, but I didn't get it for that reason. What’s your fave track?”

“Sex or Medicine, do not say Chocolate, it is such an overrated song. Way too overplayed.”

 “No fucking way, that’s my favourite,” Harry says in disbelief.

“Do you have any tattoos yourself?”

“Not yet, a little scared of needles to be honest. I’m considering getting a leprechaun on my left arse cheek though.” Niall smirked.

Harry lets out a cackle and rocks his head back in glee.

“You should do that. I would definitely watch that.” Harry says.

“I’m Irish.”

“I know, you said you wanted to get a bloody leprechaun on your arse.”

 

The next hour and a half in the care group wasn’t as unpleasant as Harry had mapped out in his mind. Everyone there was generally pretty nice and offered him nothing but sincere smiles and kind eyes. Harry dozed off well later that evening. He found the smallest shred of hope. Hope in the blonde unicorn that giggled with him in the library over pathetic posters and hope in the twinkling faces that gleamed at him at the group. His mind was at peace and he wished to hold onto the sense of pure elation forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't fucking know what is happening in this story ha.  
> my tumblr is: @hazzathepigeon   
> Comments + kudos are appreciated.
> 
> -youngnreckless x


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry doesn't get Louis, like at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the reader who decided to stumble upon my work,  
> This chapter is literal shit, but it is slightly necessary so yeaaa. I also proofread this like twice... so I'm apologising in advance for grammatical errors, bad spelling etc.
> 
> Anyways,   
> Thanks for reading this!
> 
> -youngnreckless x

**Track: The One by Kodaline**

_H, how are you going?_

_I’m coming round in the afternoon. Love Gems._

An innocent smile twitching at the side of Harry’s lips, he typed:

_I had a good day yesterday, I’ll see you vry soon._

 

That’s all it took for Harry to have the courage to saunter into the cafeteria and just try again. A few more people were in the space compared to the late afternoon when Harry had last been there. Enough people for small snippets of their dead, sad conversations to be heard.

“Oi, Harry!” Niall shouted from behind.

“Oh hey Niall.”

“Come sit with us.” Niall said grabbing a spoon from the nearest tray.

Harry glanced over to where Niall had used his spoon to point. It was Liam, and for gods sake whispering into _Zayn’s_ ear.

“I think I’ll, just sit like somewhere else.” Harry stuttered.

“Hi Harry.” Liam called from the table on the far left

. Niall smiles cheekily and mouthes a ‘be social, you butterfly.’

 

“Hi Liam and um Zayn.” Harry says flatly.

“Oh you know them already, I was going to introduce you.” Niall says, trying to pull off a disappointed tone.

“Listen Harry, I wanted to apologise for what Louis said the other day. He can be so rude to people he doesn't even know. He’s like that, but I hope you’re okay.” Zayn’s face was stern, but there was glimmer of kindness in his caramel eyes, so Harry decided to consider his words to be truthful.

“It’s fine. Thanks for that though.”

“Speaking of Louis, where is he?” Niall said scooping a spoonful of oatmeal.

Liam cleared his throat “It’s um, August.” Niall nods his blonde head as if August was a code word or some shit.

 

When Zayn noticed the curiosity creeping onto Harry’s face, he turned to Liam almost asking for some kind of permission.

“Zayn, Louis would be so damn angry at us.” Liam says, trying not to growl.

Zayn bows his head towards the table and rubs the back of his neck.

It was at this point that Louis decided to stroll into the cafeteria. He pulled the chair out right across from Harry. Harry stiffened at his presence, awkwardly shuffling his fingers closer to him. The first thing he noticed was his oh so foul breath, and then the deep purple pigment under eye circles.

“Hi boys and you.” he coughs, tilting his head up to acknowledge Harrys not so important existence.

“Hello Louis.” came the replies, except from Harry, obviously.

“Been out and about in the rain?” Liam asked. “Haha.” It’s an almost sad laugh coming from Louis, emotionless and very cold. Harry notices his rain speckled sweater, and slightly damp hair. He also notices his pure dazzling eyes that sang blueblueblue, and wondered why such a nice looking person could be ever so cruel. When Louis catches Harry eyeing the dainty inked characters on his small hands, he slips them under the table.

 

“What’s the chestnut haired one doing here?” Louis asks finally, cutting the tension in the room.

“Chocolate.” came the immediate instinct, Harry wishes he shut his mouth and a hue of rose tinted his cheeks.

“I thought you never ate or some shit.” Louis says. Harry gulps and gulps again to avoid dying in the centre of a billion stares.

“Louis bro, can you just zip it? You are so bloody mean to him.” Zayn hushes, in that moment Louis knew he’d love him endlessly and was felt grateful.

“For your information Louis Tomlinson, this is our new friend and he can sit here if he’d like to.” Niall adds.

“For fucks sake, okay. Just wanted to make sure he wasn’t some desperate gold digger.” Louis rolls his eyes, and flares his nostrils, like a fucking bull. A bull that Harry hated, clearly. Niall shoots a what the fuck face, followed by Harry’s brewing curiosity. So Louis is an impolite prick, leaves during early mornings and lives a lavish life? Is this honestly a pathetic Disney movie?

“Aren’t you going to grab some food? Wouldn’t want to be starving would you now?” inquires Louis.

Harry nods shyly, and shivers at the thoughts of eating in front of that pitiless monster that strangled him of his last few shreds of dignity.

“I’m going to the doc now, I’ll catch up later.”

 

~~~

It’s not unusual talking to Doctor Cora, in fact it would be a bit weird not to, everything today just felt so eerie and off.

“Harry, how have you been sleeping lately?”

“Really good.”

“This isn’t going to work, if you keep lying. Remember you can be open here, everything is confidential.” the lady insists.

“Well, my sleep hasn’t been very like consistent. Just so hard to stop thinking about where I am.”

Doctor Cora nods as she records something down. “I talked to Wilson and he said you’re settling quite well at the care group. How are you finding it?”

“Honestly it wasn’t as bad as I had mapped it out. I made some new friends too. The only thing is, it’s so strange how everyone seemed so problem free. I thought this place would be a ton more chaotic.”

“Most people come here thinking it’ll be hell, I’m serious Harry. It gets better, making friends is a vital part about being here. Connection to other people, having support from others going through similar issues is key. This might be a difficult question, take you time okay? Have you been trying to get to the cafeteria more often?”

“Yeah, I went this morning. It’s so much harder here without Gems or my mum to push me along. I can’t tell if I’m trying hard enough at this, at everything.”

“I think it’s going to be good for you to meet Gemma this afternoon, get some support from her.”

“On a another note, have you ever gone through any oppression of any sorts?”

He fights so hard to not let those sniffles of tears or anger, he can’t come to terms with which, to not engulf him.

 

~~~

Harry had to admit that Gemma’s visit was extremely brief, slightly disappointing. She had confessed that she had a date scheduled with some guy from university and left after fifteen minutes or so. It was a simple conversation and offered Harry a homely comfort. It was emptiness he felt, when he watched her car from his window shrinking along the tar, back into freedom. It left him also wondering if Gemma had left him at this rehab, just so she could have him off his back. Maybe he was too much of a burden, and she wanted to carry on with the rest of her life. Maybe he was too annoying, taking too long to feel better. Understandable, a little unsettling but agreeable.

 

When Harry pushed open the door to care group, he spotted the two exuberant girls giggling, tickling a meek smile on his lips too. Then of course there was Niall joking and poking around with new friends. Oh how Harry envied that with a passion! He is certain that the Irish one is indeed a bottle of sunlight. Harry wants to leave, or maybe just pass out when he catches the glimpse of that fucking boy. Yes Louis, the one who mocked him for even trying, the one who ridiculed him at every chance he got.

 

“Hola friends!” declared the voice of the maroon headed one. Apparently, any greeting apart from English was accepted in this group, it makes a lot of sense. Totally. “Is everyone doing good today?”

“I’m doing lovely.” Cassidy says, whipping her auburn braid to the side.

“Awesome.” Wilson replies, with a truthful smile to match.

“To start off this brilliant session, I would like everyone to pair up with the person next to them and simply share your name, maybe some interests, and of course the reason that you are here.” Harry and Louis both exchange a brisk glance at each other.

“Boys, come on. Pair up and give this a try.” Wilson informs.

 

“Um hi my name is Harry.” Harry starts.

“I know.”

“Look, I’m just trying-“

“Are you really?” _That bloody bastard._

“Yes.” grits Harry through his teeth.

“Okay so why are you here? What problems are you trying to overcome?” Harry is so startled that Louis actually replied decently, he had to tackle his wide eyes that would certainly pop out.

“I’m here because of like, you know body image, anxiety and stuff. I’m trying to get over that, without the help of my family. S’pose that’s all, what about you? What are you problems?”

“Nothing.”

“What? No like, you must be here for a reason?”

“No I don’t have problems. People use the term ‘problems’ because society it too tired to deal with us.” Harry doesn’t know how to respond. He is just stunned.

“Louis, I think Wilson would prefer for you to answer the question rather than quote random things you’ve found on the internet.”

Louis remains silent.

“For God’s sake, did you kill someone? Can you stop being so difficult?”

The heat of anger is speeding throughout Harry’s body, and he thinks this boy will _kill_ him through agitation. It’s Niall nearby who manages a nervous huff of laughter and Wilson who decides to stop the activity.

“Attention everyone, we’re going to work on the next activity. Most of you did that task quite well, so good job. We’re going to watch this video about loneliness, which is something that many people face. In actuality, nearly all will experience this during a certain period of point in time. Can we get you four to help set out the chairs?”

The rest of the session is a curly haired woman with a hearty, sympathetic speech on an old YouTube video. Time doesn't exactly fly, but it feels better than the days that Harry spent curled up in his bedroom without talking to anyone.

 

It dawns on Harry at about eleven pm, that he was the reason that they stopped the activity. Wilson had stopped the activity, straight after Niall made that utterly awkward laugh. There was no way that Louis would have actually killed someone, right? Maybe with his spiteful words, but it was just overthinking. Surely Harry was delusional, he had been thinking about this weird boy all night. Peeking out the window Harry spots the exquisitely delicate clusters of stars and the one star that is alone, so far from the others. He can’t even stop himself from thinking that the lonely star is like him. But the second absurd thing that floats into his trail of thoughts is that the odd star reminds him of Louis. Louis the boy who sneaks out at the most unconventional times, Louis the one who is so skeptical about gold diggers. Harry is committed, committed to discovering why this small, beautiful boy was so disrupted and destroyed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy reader,  
> Tell me what you think in the comments:)  
> tumblr: hazzathepigeon
> 
> -youngnreckless x


	4. IIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry hates smoke, and smoke hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Reader,   
> thanks for reading this!
> 
> -youngnreckless x
> 
> WARNING: for anyone who may be triggered by mentions of self harm.

**For L: (10 days) I love you.**

**Tracks: Knife by Grizzly Bear and The One by Kodaline.**

He can’t shut his eyes and let the rains lethargic drizzle soothe him to sleep, instead he coiled himself up on the chilly tiles of the bathroom stall. His head hung very far into his lap and back aching from the position. He jerked up off the flooring when moderate footsteps were heard drawing nearer. Peeking cautiously under the stall, he caught sight of a pair of black dress shoes. They were so lustrous that they could have been the brightest item in the room. Who the hell would wear a decent pair of dress shoes to a rehab? Unless there was a doctor here, but at three in the morning? The muddle was exhausting his already worn out mind.

 

It’s a peculiar scent at first, but three more puffs of it later, Harry knew _exactly_ what it was. The

cloudy draught floated atop the cubicle, andhe picturedpossiblypuking for the _third_ time that morning. The stench was bitter and oaky, making Harry’s stomach churn. The knit jumpers sleeve that was shielding the odour just wasn't enough. The smoulder conjured _those_ memories again, the ones of _his_ dad. He loathed it with a great passion and was aware of the option of leaving, maybe making an effort to face the person on the other side of the door.

 

It had been at least fifteen minutes, and that putrid stink of smoke was still afloat. 

Oh fuck everything!

Harry unlatched the door, and began to creep out into the hazy mist of Nicotine. Silence. Ah, the person had already departed. 

“Oh sweet mother of God!” Harry nearly slipped or maybe _died_ in fright. 

“Sorry to er- startle you.” It’s a gentle reply with minuscule sniffles following.

It was a challenge to see the identity of the voice because of the illy-lit space, so he decided on an “All good. I’m fine,” before proceeding to shuffle uneasily towards the door and not bothering to gaze back.

~~~

The lost boy’s throat ached so much when his eyes blinked back to consciousness. His throat was moisture-less, scratchy and felt just like in the morning. His stomach was empty and craving, much like his heart. Oh the bathroom. His senses came to him and he recollected his thoughts, of course he does. He remembered the ghastly stab in his throat distinctly. It didn't feel like the _other_ times, it was a wretched pain from further down. It felt like so much was unleashed, the pain, the alienation. Why was the loneliness questioned? He didn't know, much like everything else.

 

He didn’t exit his room for breakfast, lunch or the library. It’s until dinner time that he eventually left his cocooned form. He was quite certainly in his mess of a dreamer state when two faint knocks wereplaced on his door. Who would ever come looking for _him_? It was Harry, for God’s sake. Most people would try to avoid him all together.

“Sorry, is Harry in this room?”

“Dick, you got the wrong one!” It’s an Irish voice, Niall obviously.

Sighing greatly, Harry twisted the door knob and was met with a Liam and a Niall.

“Harreeee. How are you?” It was a little hard to answer, because Niall had pulled Harry in for a tight squeeze.

“Alright, yeah.” Harry responded.

“Buddy, you’re in luck because your two epic friends brought you dinner,” Liam announced, shaking the plastic tupperware back and forth.

“Aww, thanks you two,” added Harry, collecting the container of food.

“Would you like our sweet, sweet company?” Niall asked, fluttering his eyelashes and gesturing for permission to enter.

“Sure, if you aren't too occupied. You can come in.”

 

There is absolutely nothing to do in Harry’s room. It’s plain dreadful. Just everything about it, colourless, uninteresting and dull. Just like him.

“Did you want some alone time this morning? Is that why you weren't out?” inquired Liam.

“Yeah, slept in a bit too.”

Wanting to change the topic immediately, Harry asked “Why don’t you come to the support group?”

“Nah, I’m not here for recovery or treatment. My parents own the place and I just come around to assist my aunt, Cora and stuff. It’s nice, I’ve made a couple of good friends and it’s really heart warming to see them get better.” answered Liam.

“Right, that’s cool that you do that,” came Harry’s courteous response.

“Ay Harry, you better come to the library with me tomorrow. I’m so lonely and have to suffer with this person’s company,” Niall said, doing a sarcastic roll of the eyes towards Liam.

“If you insist on it, but Zayn could always accompany you?”

“He’s far too busy accompanying Liam, if you know what I mean?” giggled Niall.

Harry’s eyes widened at the realisation, “Oh, you’re with Zayn.”

“You don't mind this kind of stuff, do you?” Liam’s almost permanent grin faltered.

“Course not, why would I?” says Harry good-naturedly. 

“You scared me for a mome-,” the reply from Liam is interfered by an irksome ringtone.

Liam lifted the phone, “Hey buddy, you alright? Yeah, that’s good. Do you want some company later? Don’t blame yourself again. Okay drive safely, I’ll come round or ring you tomorrow morning.”

“Is it Tommo?” Niall asked.

“Yep, he’s fine. Lil weary, but generally pretty fine.” Liam nodded, face still dark and stern.

Tommo, Tomlinson, Louis? Harry was whirring with inquisitiveness, and apparently his facial expression made it apparent.

“Li, can we please just explain to Harry what the fuck is going on? Like, look at the poor man.” says Niall.

“So Louis is going through a tough time at the moment. I’m not going to stand here and reveal all his bloody secrets,” Liam uttered harshly, clearly directed towards Niall. “However, I can tell you this, you can actually trust him and he won’t hurt you. He isn't as frightening and sinister as he makes himself.”

Not frightening or sinister? Harry wasn't sure if he could accept all this new information, seemed too good for someone who could work him out at first sight.

 

~~~

Harry had not even the tiniest idea what he might do with the plastic container filled with chicken and potato pasta. Eating it was not an option, even though the arch of his left foot had been cramping for ages and his vision was bleary like the sky outside. Completely lost with thought, he hurried to the restroom. Scoop by scoop he flushed it down toilet and avoided thinking about it at all. Flush, seeing a gush of the past.

He knew it would be terribly tough to return back to his room and lie in his cold bed unable to fall asleep again. With regret already gathering at the back of his mind, he took a trip to the canteen. For the sake of avoiding the guilt that would follow when he’d pass out in front of Niall the following day. 

 

The canteen isn’t jam packed, the atmosphere is eerie and obscure. It’s white toned lights were a bit too much, for Harry’s sore self, body nearly staggering back out the door. The three or four solemn souls don't glance up when he hobbles to counter, left foot throbbing with numbing cramp. Shivering, freezing even at the gentle breeze that met his face. Oh, so cold.

 

There’s an apricot in the fruit bowl on the counter, and Harry remembered that it has the least amount of carbohydrates in it. He slipped it in his left sleeve opening and the fuzzy skin of the fruit brushed against his fading scars. He wondered where to go next, and settled on sitting at the table until he managed to finish whatever he could of it. He lifted the warm coloured fruit to his mouth and smiled. Just finish it. For Gemma, or whoever who seemed to care. His throat tingled when the first little gulp was swallowed. His body thanking him, his past did not. After an endured twenty minutes, Harry popped the spiky seed in the bin and thought desperately about what to do after that.

 

The looming monster was right, the one that lived inside of Harry. He couldn't do it. He had himself trapped inside the darkest cubicle the furthest from the exit. He knew _it_ was there, the item that wrecked everything. Destroyed everything enough apart from him. Hidden so carefully at the base of his backside pocket. The tears were gliding down his cheeks, splashing onto his scarred fingers and wrists and thighs and heart. The gleaming blade resting clean for weeks. The same one that Harry’s father had seen against his skin that shitty day. 

 

_‘Harry, what in heaven’s sake are you doing? Are you crazy? Stop crying you bastard!’_

_‘I don’t know Dad, I’m so lost.’_

_‘Don’t call me Dad, you’re messed up!’_

 

He just can’t. The two fingers pushed to the back of Harry’s throat are completely lubricated in saliva and he can feel the bitterness of the vomit. He almost expected everything that was paining inside of him would be emptied. Instead, it was almost nothing. Not good enough, he _knew_ how much it would hurt in the morning if he kept going, so he repeated. And that wretched smell of smoke. Smelt like burning.

 

Harry’s face was hovered above the porcelain bowl, face smeared wet with tears. He felt his eyes snap suddenly wide open when a frosty hand touched his shoulder. Throat stinging, he turned around to see who it was. Louis. 

“No please, you have to leave. Please go right now.” Harry sobbed, voice rasping. So scared of the taunts, no.

“Stop, look I’ll take you to the clinic.” Louis suggested, not exactly sympathising, but showing the slightest trace of emotion.

“No, just go.” replied Harry, face hidden in his clammy hands.

“What triggered you?” Louis said, so clearly ignoring his request to leave.

“Me of course.” As if it were obvious to read his mind.

“No, _something_ must have made you do this. What?” Louis asked, Harry could see him fixing his hair even in the dim light.

“For God’s sake, why do you need to know? Smoke, I smelt smoke.” 

“Smoke?”

“Yeah.” Harry responded.

“Well isn’t that stupid.” Louis scoffed, tossing his head in a amused shake, “You’re crazy!” he added storming out of the restroom.

 

_‘You’re crazy’_ plays the monster in Harry’s head. His thoughts are on repeat, and he just wanted to just be able to admit to himself that their was good in Louis. He started to question if there was good in anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating whenever I'm bothered ha!  
> My tumblr is: @hazzathepigeon  
> Tell me what you think in the comments:)
> 
>  
> 
> -youngnreckless x


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry feels something weird?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> Long time no see, I should have updated about a month ago... oops  
> It's also not very well edited... as long as you get the general gist of it haha?  
> Thanks for clicking on my trashy writing. 
> 
> -youngnreckless x
> 
> (you make me strong)

**Tracks: One Day by Kodaline (I’m trash) and This Must Be My Dream by the 1975**

  
**At 2am**  
The night was beautiful to Louis. The misty purple sky with wavy wisps of grey clouds. The tiny dazzling stars that guided him away from everything. He was driving into the night, metallic alloy wheels gliding against the rumbly boulevards. He was heading somewhere, very far away. The truth was no one knew where he was going, not even himself. Just somewhere, anywhere would be good enough. He parked the cherry coloured Mercedes and didn't even bother to lock it. Instead, he proceeded to tap the tap the silver elevator buttons. Number 20, Penthouse suite. The thing is, Louis always had everything, but he never felt like he had anyone.

He was there _again_ , perched up in some brilliantly furnished place. Another one of those gifts from his dad. The ones to make up for screwing up his life, for letting Louis be abandoned for the fucking sake of money or maybe this apartment was for not allowing Louis to attend his own mother’s funeral. For letting him live a life of emptiness. Or rather, forcing him too.

Louis’ rolled up in a ball sitting on the edge of the balcony, toes dangling over slightly. He loves watching the quiet night. The soft and swift movements of the cars that went by. He thought about how they were so harsh and abrupt in the mornings. The moon was a bit duller tonight, just bright enough to soothe the tired boy’s mind.

It’s bitter and tingles when it trickles down his throat. It feels just so right, the alcohol, the drug, addiction or whatever society wanted it to be called. His right hand is wrapped around the icy glass and it feels so numb. He definitely preferred numbing to pain. He loved it though, how a few sips could help him forget. So he didn't have to fight his thoughts for another night. It put him at ease so that the only thing he had to do fight was to keep breathing.

Sometimes he did think about it. When he didn't have alcohol to fight in his system for him. He’d think about just doing it. It would be quick, just a leap of faith and it would all be over. His guilt, his misery and then he’d stop screwing everyone over. One day he would definitely do it (that’s what he told himself at least). He’d build up the courage and it would all be over. It wasn’t tonight though, definitely not. Louis didn't know why but he was filled with a weird sense of tranquility. He didn't feel happy, he just felt a little okay.

 

~~~

  
Mondays were detested universally. Especially the shitty ones that were spent at rehabs filled with mind lost people. Harry grumbled at the thought of being alive and slid his alarm off. Fuck Mondays. Fuck his stupid thoughts. Harry changed into a pair of loose grey sweats, and zipped up a very worn out black jumper.

Harry sped walk to the cafeteria, exhausted and ready to flop back into bed again by the time he reached for the door. He caught sight of Ruth munching rather excitedly on a slice of buttered up toast.  
“Hey Harry,” greeted Ruth.  
“Oh Ruth, hi,” Harry replied pretending he wasn't too scared to wave.  
“Come sit down with me!” Ruth suggested, stirring her spoon around in a bowl of bubbly milk filled with Coco Pops.  
“I’d love too but I have something on and I can’t quite remember what it is. Wait, where’s Cassidy?”  
Harry watched Ruth’s pink cheeks dull and her eyes flicker down to the ground.  
“She wasn't feeling her best this morning. She had a panic attack. I wanted to stay with her, but sometimes it’s good to not crowd her.” replied Ruth.  
“Oh,” Harry said, “It’s really good that you respect her like that.”  
“Thanks, I appreciate it. But what would you do?”  
“I’d do what you did. It’s different for everyone. If you reckon she needs space, then giving her that is right.”  
“Thanks Harry, we should catch up more. Do you want some breakfast?” asks Ruth.  
“It’s totally okay. Shit, I’m so sorry. I realised I have an appointment right now.” Harry said, waving goodbye and hopping up from his seat.

 

~~~

  
He still hated the _perfectly_ wide hallway with the disastrous splatter of a painting that was created by some maniac who had came here and then recovered. It reminded him of how incompetent he was, how he’d never be able to make anything like that and- “Harry, I was just going to get someone to look for you.”  
“Oh Doctor Cora, sorry, I just forgot about it.”  
“That's fine. Come on in.” invited Doctor Cora.

“You seem quite tired? Have you been sleeping alright?”  
“Well,” a lie was going to flow straight out of Harry’s mouth, “No,” he decided on the rather straight forward answer.  
“Do you think you know why you’re not sleeping well?” inquired Cora.  
_Well where would he start? The fact that he was stuck in a mental institution or that he gets harassed constantly by some little prude boy or that he couldn't really control his fucking sleep patterns._  
“I don’t think it would be easy for anyone to sleep in my situation. I’m thinking about so much all the time.” says Harry.  
“Alright then, um.” Doctor Cora jots something down in her swirly black letters.  
“Have you tried meditation or sleep waves? It helps the mind settle down.” she suggested.  
“I could try the sleep waves thing I guess,” Harry agreed, trying not to show his reluctancy.  
“So if you download the application ‘Night Waves’, and try listening to that it might help a little.”  
Harry nods. “The thing is with any journey like this, it is really up to the patient to take a step. It’s a mental challenge so I can’t sit here and fix everything. If you don't want to use these tools that I’m trying to provide, that is okay as long as you know what you’re doing,” Cora tells whilst fidgeting with the side of her table.  
“Yeah, I understand that.” agrees Harry.  
“Good, and obviously the care group was not on during the weekends, but I hope you’ll be going after this session.”  
“I will, but I just um. This sounds silly, the thing is I feel a little afraid. Everyone here is incredibly fu-messed up. It’s just that when I was at school, I felt like I was the only one who felt like this. The only one who always thought about death every damn day but then now it’s so weird. Some people are on a whole other level of crazy and others are just so nice. I don't even know who or what I’m scared of, I just feel my anxiety through the roof when I’m here.” shared Harry.  
“Harry, thank you for sharing that. None of that is silly. Firstly, no one here is messed up. You’re here so that when you leave this place, you'll be a better person. Anxiety is something you’ve always dealt with so it shouldn't be weird if you feel that in a new environment. Yes you’re right, everyone here isn't like the people at school, but that’s the whole point. The whole point is so that you can relate to these people, so that you can recover with them and understand each other. It’s so all of you can have a friend and not be constantly searching for one.”  
“I guess you’re right.”  
“Harry, I don’t mean to cut this conversation short but the care group starts in five and I’d really like it if you could share and contribute a bit more. I’m glad you opened up a tad more this session.” says Cora.  
“Yes of course, thanks for um this,” replies Harry, getting up from his seat.  
“Oh wait, one more question. Who is on another level of crazy?” Doctor Cora says, getting up from her seat too.  
“Louis Tomlinson is.”

~~~  
“Ni Hao,” greeted Wilson, bobbing his head for an attempted bow.  
“Morning,” said one, “Ni Hao to you,” said another, and silence from everyone else.  
“Okay everyone, let’s gather round into a circle.”  
“Today is a very _beautiful_ day. Personally, I’m a fan of the sun rays. I think it really brightens my mood. Now I want everyone to say their name, just to remind others and state one thing you’re thankful for at this very moment.”  
“What is this thanksgiving dinner?” cackled Niall in the most pitch accent ever. His sarcasm was followed by a few brave giggles.  
“No Ireland, now why don't you begin?” Wilson said with a cheery grin beginning to splay on his face.  
“Thank you Sir. I’m Niall and I’m Irish. I’m thankful on this day because all these fantastic people were able to be here and chat with one another.”  
“Good, and next, Harry.” Wilson points.  
Clearing his throat, he says “Hi, I’m Harry and today I am thankful because I was able to get out of bed and that’s it really.”  
“Totally relatable,” Niall says raising his eyebrows and nodding.  
Next was Ruth, “I’m Ruth and today I’m extremely grateful, like very very grateful that Cassidy is feeling better from this morning.”  
“Ruth, you’re so sweet.” Cassidy chirps, her frizzy ginger hair bouncing with the sentence.  
“Would you be comfortable to share some things about this morning?” asks Wilson.  
“Right. So today has been two months since my brother went missing,” Cassidy’s breath quickened and she gulped something heavy down her throat, “I got a phone call at the reception this morning and he,” _Gulpgulpgulp_ , “He’s in jail.”  
It’s silence at first, but then it’s a hurricane of tears. It’s hugs upon hugs and so many people chanting ‘It’ll be alright.” It’s tissues crumpled on the floor and a secure quietness. Everything _feels_ at ease.

“Now guys, I have something to tell you all about before we get into doing some activities. So, I’ve been talking to the psychologists and psychiatrists here. We have been able to see that a lot of you are gaining something out of the sessions and this group. However, we all agree that it would be brilliant if all of us could share something from personal experience. So in this next few sessions, including today’s, we’ll work on opening up to friends. Is everyone okay with that?” Wilson looks around the room and the hushed faces, before continuing.  
“The first activity we’re completing this week is quite fun. So I have arranged everyone into pairs, so try to find the person you’re assigned with. After that, I want you to tell each other a story in your life that makes you happy and one that makes you feel another emotion. You can choose what you want that to be.”  
The majority of the room nod, with a few just sighing.

Knock Knock.  
No no no no no, Harry would get his ass up right now and leave.  
Wilson turns around, “Oh hello there Louis.”  
Louis was dressed from head to toe in shades of grey. Charcoal shirt, black skinny jeans, topped with a newish looking Adidas jacket.  
“Hey,” smiles Louis, crouching down on the floor next to Niall, yes he was only a person away from Harry.  
“So to summarise, all of you are going to go into your assigned groups to share a happy story from your years on earth and one that did not make you happy.”  
Louis nods and does some kind of weird chest pump with Niall.  
Wilson clears his throat (very unnecessarily),“So I want Alan with Cassidy. Ruth, you go with Niall. Andrew to be partnered up with Serena. Louis and Harry-“ _Fuck no_ , of course some stupid bloody fate would bring them together. _How_ unfortunate could Harry’s life get.

“Listen Harry,” Louis’ little (very frustrating) smirk disappeared.  
Harry just stared, was he supposed to reply?  
“I’m really sorry. you weren't who I expected you to be. Well, it’s only right if I- I need to apologise for saying those things to you, in the bathrooms and at the cafeteria.”  
_What what what, fucking piece of shit, how could he just fake some pitiful smile and think everything is okay?_  
“I know you won’t believe me, but honestly, I’ll prove it to you. That I’m sorry for stuff.”  
Harry still hadn't looked up from the stripy carpet and he knew that Louis was waiting for some kind of a reaction.  
“Harry, if you doubt yourself, you’ll doubt others too.”  
It’s a brief moment of silence, before Louis props himself onto the floor.  
“So… would you care to share a happy experience from your life?”  
Sill stunned, Harry searches for words “I-er, this one time, when I was six years old- my dad took me to this park. It was called Alison’s Creek and it was the most amazing day of my life. It was all so cheesy, but we had a picnic and everything. It was splendid, actually,”  
“Wow, that sounds really sweet,” Harry prays that the hint of uncertainty in Louis’ voice and the uncomfortable swallowing was not the monster of sarcasm.  
“For me, when I was in high school, I went to this really fantastic party with my friends. We got so drunk out of our minds. I forgot everything, it felt good. It was like temporary amnesia in a glass bottle.”  
“And a story that didn't make you happy?” asks Harry, he imagines inky blue scribbles on Louis’ hands.  
“The day that someone told me I had to come here.” answers Louis, pulling the sleeves over his fingers after noticing Harry’s staring eyes.  
“Me too.”

The boy with the swirly chestnut curls tossed endlessly in bed, chanting the only words that made him feel anything. The _only_ words that had made him feel something since so long ago, the _only_ ones that didn't shatter his heart, the _only_ words worth thinking about.  
‘If you doubt yourself, you’ll doubt others too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading:)  
> There are so many conversations in this too (ugh) I'll try to tidy it up in the next chapter, if there is one ha.  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated (as usual)
> 
> -youngnreckless x


	6. V1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers all round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies,
> 
> So I haven't updated this shit fic in like forever but here is another chapter... it was written in one sitting and yeah, it's just kinda crap and ew. I hope you still like it?
> 
> -youngnreckless x

**Tracks: Unintended by Muse and Constellations by Jack Johnson**

 

“Let me apologise to you,” begins Doctor Cora.

“Um, why?” questions Harry.

“Well, all of your sessions have been cut short and I have definitely not tried my best to assist you. I talked to Wilson again and he thinks for the benefit of you and the others, we should change things up.”

“How so?” 

“By pushing the support group to a later time,” Cora sets her pen and notepad down on the coffee table in front of her, “We have split all of the care groups up and arranged them into specific groups that will support different difficulties. You can go to the front desk and find Caroline who will help you find the group. Or just go to the room next to library at 3pm. Is this alright for you?”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” nods Harry, attempting to dodge another truckload of distressing thoughts.

“What’s on your mind this morning?”

Harry leaned down to stare at his tattered brown boots, feeling all the blood gush to his already sore head.

“This is just a minor thing but the day Gem visited. I mean, it was so hurried and I think I just miss her company. She made me feel like I could get past all this, but now I’m here feeling… hopeless? Yeah, hopeless.”

“Alright, well what would you have wanted to happen when Gemma visited?”

“For her to not have rushed away like I was. God, this is embarrassing,” Harry hesitated to continue, “I guess I wanted to feel more prioritised. More important to her. She left so quickly.”

“Do you think you are unimportant to her?”

“Sometimes.” Harry said.

“And what are some situations where you have felt not prioritised? You always need evidence for the things you decide to agree with. Remember?”

Harry thought, for quite a bit actually. 

“I guess, I’m just over exaggerating what happened.”

“Harry, you talk about your sister frequently. And you miss her a lot. That is quite a special bond you have with her and that’s essential for recovery or for anyone in general. But what about your parents?”

“I miss them too,” snapped Harry in defence, unaware that his lies were getting shittier. 

“What happened with your parents? Something in the past?”

Harry shook his head ‘no’, he wouldn't let this out. _Not_ here, _not_ with anyone. How could he?

“Do you feel uncomfortable talking about them?”

“ _No_ , they just aren't a problem,” said Harry, well they weren’t, his Dad was not, did not even bother to greet him, ever.

  
~~~

Liam and Zayn sit across from Harry, Niall next to him, forks in hands, encouraging smiles plastered on their faces. 

He’s eating, very slowly but it all adds up. He has had four bites of his cheese sandwich and refused to contemplate all _those_ thoughts rocking about in that unpredictable head. He was fairly proud. In a sudden second, the usually smooth aired cafeteria is filled with an utterly ear shattering (if that was possible) shriek. Harry and Niall rush over to the window where they spot a girl, matted black hair and a trauma stained face running through the multicoloured flower beds.

“What the _fuck_?” Niall said, face forming into a face of innocent confusion.

“Oh yeah, that girl’s room is two rooms down from mine. Last week, she collapsed in front of my door, in the morning the nurses found her and said she had overdosed on some kind of drug. She’s in my care group so she got forced to talk about it. Pretty dodgy,” explained Zayn in a tone of boredom. 

“Yeah well drugs? The only people who could get their hands on them are Liam and Louis. You guys are the only two who can leave right? Or maybe get your parents to check the security cameras, that would be so smart, Li,” oblivious to his own words, Niall proceeded to chew on his cheese sandwich.

“Niall, shut up. Are you saying I would sell narcotics or some shit to someone?” Liam said rather brusquely, Zayn throwing in a frown to defend his boyfriend.

“Sorry why is Louis able to leave?” asks Harry.

Niall was literally in the middle of a shrug when Louis just so conveniently decided to show up.

“Ah, questions. I exit because I don't belong here, what else? And to answer the drug part of this problem, substance abuse for me, so very possible. You know what, I’ve had experience too, it could very well have been me.” Louis smirked before turning off his heels and striding away.

“Shit Niall, you douche. I’ll go chase him up, see you guys later,” decides Liam, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

“Wait, why am _I_ the douche?” said Niall, his flame of inquisition fuelled on.

 

~~~

Later on, after yet another unexplained encounter with Louis, Harry goes into the gardens. From the window above in the cafeteria, it looked decent- okay, it was _very_ pretty. He had never seen so many different coloured flowers before. Not even when Gemma would drag him along to flower shops every Saturday morning just to find roses for the kitchen. 

 

_‘Flowers inhale our scary thoughts.’_

That’s what Gemma proclaimed at the entrance of every little shop or at the cash register when Harry’s eyes widened at the cost of a single pink thing nearing it’s death. When Gemma got home, she would trim the stems before placing them in a cylindrical vase on the dining table. 

_‘Stare at something beautiful whilst you eat, because that’s what_ _you_ _are.’_

 

This garden was different, almost spectacular. The tulips, the roses, the _carnations_ , like upside down wedding dresses were a shade of comforting lavender. The sky, tumbling clouds spread sparse on the blue canvas, was the very sister of the dark ultramarine hydrangeas.

He left feeling comforted, like someone was patting him on the back, this could all be possible.

 

~~~

Harry must have spent two hours just staring at the swaying flowers because when he wandered back into the cafeteria, the hands of the clock read two o’ clock. Passing through all the hallways decorated with awkward artworks and even awkwarder faces, he finally got to the library. The room next to it had audible movements coming from it. Most of the people inside wore the ‘ _I am a fucking nervous wreck, don't approach me_ ’ face. The only people that Harry recognised in the new group were Wilson and Zayn. 

“Ah hello- salut Harry,” grinned Wilson, throwing the most teeth filled grin that was possible.

“Hello,” replied Harry, staring at the weirdness, absurdity, the event taking place atop Wilson’s newly done hair.

Wilson inquired, “Isn’t it fresh? Do you like it?” 

“I guess…”

“Inspired by one of these bad boys,” said Wilson, pulling out a printed picture of a white Chrysanthemum (yes, on a little square of paper.)

Oh… The green in the hairline and the rest of it a ghastly bleached white.

“A chrys- chrymethem,” attempted Wilson, laughing at his own attempt of the word.

“A chrysanthemum.”

“Wow, flower expert.”

“Nope, they’re just enjoyable.”

Wilson nodded in an overly excited manner before recruiting over all the members of this newly made group. Harry wandered over to Zayn before realising that behind him was a shorter boy. Wow, fate was just so kind. Yet again, Louis was quiet, in his own world. Head facing down and scribbling random little things all over his hands and wrists in a blue inked felt tip. After noticing the room was silent and all eyes were on him, he folded down his sleeves and got up to join the group.

 

“Salut everybody! Well most of you know this already, my name is Wilson. I work here and would like for all of you to be at your best. Everyone here is apart of the Depression care group. We will be working together, sharing experiences and creating bonds to help us out.”

Nobody replied, so chrysanthemum/ Wilson continued his speech.

“I think it would be a great idea for all us to go around the circle and share our names. Let’s also share a goal in our life as well as a hobby. It’s important for people to find a passion and continue down that path.”

Everybody nods, aside from Louis who is being even more frustrating for some unknown reason.

“I’m Zayn. My hobby is art, I like it and music too. For the future, I want to recover and pursue a career in producing records.”

“Awesome,” remarks a boy.

“My name is Harry. I want to- I think write a blog or self-publish something if I ever get round to doing it. And for hobbies, I haven't really found one.”

“And something vital for everyone to know is that this lovely lad likes flowers,” chimes Wilson as if it was actually the most precious piece of information.

“Hey, well I’m Sharon and I like music, that’s like my hobby. As in listening to music is my hobby- is that a hobby? Okay and I want to move away from London like in the future. Yeah, okay.”

“Louis, could you please answer the questions?” says Wilson in a patient voice.

“I’m Louis, for the future I don't want to be anything that I am now and I like driving, getting lost sort of thing.”

“What do you like about getting lost?”

“It’s thrilling.”

How very _psychopathic_?

 

It’s been good. Harry’s pleased, he attempted to get some food in his mouth. Half of the prepared lunch meal and a bit of dinner. He didn't know the exact reason, couldn't pin point why he felt some sort of motivation but maybe it was to do with the thoughts of Gemma? How she wouldn't give up on his recovery, Harry just missed her so goddamn much. Harry spent the evening after the slow meal with Zayn and Niall in the library. They were good distractions and helped his thoughts fuck off for a bit. Apparently, Niall didn't consider reading a very ‘normal’recreational activity for people to participate in, so they all sat on the bean bags and discussed vital matters (awkward puns and misbeliefs they had as kids). Not once was Liam or Louis brought up but that was okay, it was none of Harry’s business anyway and it all seemed far too complicated for him to grasp.

 

So yes, it _had_ been good. Furthermore, Harry felt a tad proud. Not of himself, but of how things were going.When Harry arrived his stupid bright white room, it felt less shitty too. Then in his peripheral vision he saw something. Something that made his cheeks tinge a cherry pink. There on the window sill, a blue hydrangea. A round and full flower, a delicious blue with all the petals imitating butterflies. Next to it was a scrap of paper and in a thick, deep navy font ‘Or Chrysanthemums?’

 

“Hydrangeas,” whispered Harry into the air, puzzled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi reader,
> 
> Thank you for enduring this chapter, things will get more exciting in the future haha. Feedback is much appreciated.
> 
> -youngnreckless x

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post as soon as I finish the next chapter.  
> Chat with me: tumblr is @hazzathepigeon
> 
> -youngnreckless x


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